


What Are You?

by NullanyThorm



Category: RWBY
Genre: Drabble, Pre-Volume 3 (RWBY), Spoilers, Volume 4-6 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 04:29:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17501588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NullanyThorm/pseuds/NullanyThorm
Summary: After the attack by the White Fang at the docks, Ozpin sits down for a conversation with Blake Belladonna. The young faunus girl brings up memories of a long-forgotten past.A really tiny drabble I wanted to write while working on To Each Their Own Color. The question and idea have been nagging at the back of my head, so I wrote a tiny little blurb about it.





	What Are You?

“Why do you wear that bow, Blake? Why Hide who you are?”

His eyes met with his pupil’s bright gold ones, imploring her to open up. Blake Belladonna, however, had other ideas. Her eyes turned away from him, as she turned away while remaining seated across the table from him. The young faunus (though most would never know, due to the aforementioned bow) seemed determined that she was alone. 

“You may be willing to accept the faunus, Professor Opin,” she retorted, “but your  _ species _ isn’t.”

“True, but we are continuing to take strides to lessen the divide.”

“With all due respect, you need to start taking some greater strides. Until then, I’d rather avoid any unnecessary attention.”

Professor Ozpin couldn’t say he didn’t understand the sentiment. Formerly hazy memories of a life spent confined within a cage grew sharper, and he couldn’t fault the girl’s distrust of humanity. Yet, the girl’s next words were the most interesting, to him. 

“I want people to see me for  _ who _ I am, not  _ what  _ I am.”

“... and what  _ are _ you?”

The question was undoubtedly directed at the cat faunus in front of him. He’d had his suspicions about her involvement with the organization known as the White Fang, and with the recent incident at the docks that had created this conversation, they were growing stronger. Yet, the question was, in a sense, also directed at himself. As the girl deflected his questions about the incident, he couldn’t help but realize something himself. 

When one has spent lives as both a human and a faunus, it tends to be difficult to keep memories of those old lives separate. While he knew that Miss Belladonna was only seeing the human headmaster in front of her,  _ he  _ was seeing a fellow faunus who wanted change. Much as he had during his faunus lives before the Great War. 

“Blake… Are you sure there is nothing else you would like to tell me?”

He implored for the girl to open up with him one last time. He knew she wouldn’t. Knew she must feel responsibility for whatever her connection with the Fang was (and this conversation had made it obvious to him that there  _ was _ a connection, no matter what she said). While he understood Blake Belladonna’s struggles more than the young girl was aware, he knew he couldn’t tell her as such. So… all he could do was hope. 

“... I’m sure.”

And she seemed disinterested in doing so. He had no intention of forcing his pupil to open up, either. Whatever struggles she was going through, perhaps it wasn’t his place to get involved. Perhaps his own memories of a life inside a cage and the state of faunus before the great war were driving him to identify more than he should. 

“Very well. Thank you for your time, Miss Belladonna. If you ever need to talk to me...”

He glanced into the girl’s golden eyes again. The eyes of a girl who could, some day in the future, become a leader for many faunus. With her drive for equality, it could very well be possible if she only chose the right path. 

“Please… don’t hesitate to ask.”

And he did all that he could. He knew that -- not only to her, but to many other faunus -- he was simply another human. One that either couldn’t be relied on, or simply had no place in faunus affairs. Yet, never did he feel more of a disconnect with that ‘humanity’ then when he saw the struggle of Miss Belladonna, who was reminding him so much of one of many lives he’d lived. 

  
And never did he feel he had to ask himself the same question.  _ What was he? _


End file.
